“Don’t you ever do that again. Defy me if it makes you feel more in control, Alice, but don’t think I’m going to roll over if you deny me this.”
She swallowed thickly at his quick, succinct reply. It’d obviously been right on the tip of his tongue. He’d made it clear he would only agree to her resuming her life as a counselor at Camp Durand if she spent her nights with him at Castle Durand. She was reminded yet again of how anxious he’d been for her safety. Not just tonight.
For twenty years of his life.
Dylan seemed bizarrely convinced that a threat to her safety still remained. It was like after all those years of worrying, he couldn’t stop the habit now.
When she didn’t reply, he resumed their hasty, silent journey through the dark night. Their terse exchange had only amplified the tension between them. Alice’s heart began an erratic race. When they reached Dylan’s bedroom, she knew what was going to happen. Their frothing emotions would find an outlet in volatile lovemaking. She dreaded it.
She wanted it so badly, it felt like she’d shatter from the force of her need.
SIX
She and Dylan didn’t speak during the increasingly familiar, dark, furtive trek through the woods, up the slope of the hill and through the terrace doors of Castle Durand. He didn’t even utter a word once he’d closed his bedroom door, locked it, led her to the side of his bed and switched on a lamp to a dim setting.
Nor when he silently began to undress her.
By that time, Alice trembled from the force of anxious desire.
She reached to help him unfasten her bra, but he merely grasped her wrists and placed her arms back at her sides. She looked up at his face, seeing his fixed expression as he watched himself undress her. He was still angry with her. She could see it etched on his bold rugged features. She was still angry with him.
But as always, this electrical need, this inexplicable pull they experienced for one another, trumped everything else.
Despite his obvious irritation at her, his touch was gentle as he unfastened her bra. His fingertips lightly skimmed the side of her breasts as he removed the cups. She winced reflexively, her nipples pulling painfully tight, even at that subtle caress of skin against skin. She noticed his gaze on her bared breasts and shut her eyes, embarrassed and aroused by the exposure, knowing he witnessed the sharpness of her need.
By the time he’d fully undressed her and she stood before him naked, her trembling had amplified.
“Lie down on the bed,” he said.
Relief swept through her at his demand. Lying down, perhaps he wouldn’t notice her shaking. The sense of relief intensified when she reclined against the pillows, and he reached into a bedside table drawer, lifting out two black cuffs with attached straps.
It both soothed and aroused her, to feel the soft leather against her wrists . . . to feel their strength and solidity. She’d resigned herself to the fact that surrender was her only option when it came to Dylan. It helped, though, knowing that with the restraints, she had no choice but to submit.
He restrained her wrists to the bed. When he was done, she lay naked with her arms above her head, her elbows bent slightly and resting comfortably on the pillows. He straightened upon finishing his task and paused next to the bed, looking down at her bound body . . . taking his time.
Something in his gaze made her eyes clamp tight again.
So hot. So possessive.
He came down over her, still fully dressed, and straddled her hips on all fours. She made a muffled sound of arousal when she felt him plant his hands on the mattress above her shoulders, and knew he towered above her.
“Look at me.”
He said it bluntly, a hint of impatience in his tone.
She stared up at him, trying desperately to even her choppy breathing. He held her gaze as he bent his arms. His dark head lowered. She cried out in helpless, cutting arousal when he sucked an erect nipple into his mouth and laved it briskly with his tongue. He lifted one hand and molded the breast on which he sucked, his actions focused and greedy. Her hips shifted restlessly on the bed as arousal swelled between her thighs.
“Dylan,” she called desperately after a moment, but he was lost in his task of consuming her. He squeezed her breast lasciviously while he tortured her nipple with his tongue. He kissed her flushed skin with gentle, worshipful lips, then sucked on her again hungrily. Alice writhed beneath him, moaning his name until her cries grew desperate.
“What?” he asked abruptly, and she realized her chanting of his name had finally breached his single-minded lust.
She unclenched her eyelids, her breath catching at the vision of him. He held both of her breasts in his large hands possessively. His mouth was twisted slightly in a snarl—not one of anger, Alice recognized, but one of interrupted appetite. The globes of her breasts looked pale next to his hands, the nipples reddened and damp. She nearly shut her eyes again at the potency of the vision.